


Shower Talk

by MikeWritesThings



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Caught, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Flirting, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Pre-Relationship, Resolved Sexual Tension, Riding, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Trans Octane | Octavio Silva, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24534319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikeWritesThings/pseuds/MikeWritesThings
Summary: Taejoon couldn't stop thinking about Octavio—which led to him jerking off in the communal showers aboard the dropship, and getting discovered by the very man who'd been on his mind for weeks.
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 16
Kudos: 148





	Shower Talk

**Author's Note:**

> whaddup party people its ya boy , skinny penis,
> 
> anyways happy pride month here is cryptane nsfw as a treat. octane is trans in this fic and i use 'feminine' terms for his genitalia i.e. clit. i generally try to avoid other words (pussy/cunt) etc but they do show up a couple of times because there's only so much bush i can beat before it gets old
> 
> also this fic operates under my headcanon that during the weekdays during game season, they live on the dropship and are prepared to drop at a moment's notice, hence things like communal showers and locker rooms.
> 
> enjoy!

Taejoon Park was getting pretty tired of Octavio Silva.

For a myriad of reasons, the top three being that one, he was loud and annoying, two, he was an awful teammate, and three, he was hot for absolutely no fucking reason.

It was unfair for a man who probably didn’t shower and solely consumed energy drinks to have abs like that. It made Taejoon one part envious, with his own softer stomach, and one part concupiscent, because the abs combined with the waist and thighs often lent themselves to less than professional thoughts about him.

It didn’t help that Octavio was a flirt, and seemed to take advantage of the effect he had on Taejoon—bringing to mind that night weeks ago before they boarded the dropship, drinking at Mirage’s bar and Octavio leaning too far into his space. So close that he felt his breath against his cheek, one hand placed on his thigh as Octavio sloshed his drink around and relayed some stunt he’d pulled in too low of a voice for Taejoon to properly comprehend it beyond _‘he’s hot and_ very _close to me right now’._

“—and that’s how I got fourteen stitches on my arm,” Octavio had concluded his story with, and drew away from Taejoon, but the drunk feeling of being so close in proximity to him seemed to linger behind. Taejoon downed the rest of his drink in one go and cleared his throat, trying to fight back the haze and flushing of his cheeks, which didn’t go unnoticed by Octavio.

“Hey, compadre, you’re lookin’ a little hot,” Octavio teased, leaning forward on his elbow over the bar, and Taejoon had fixed his gaze on Mirage in the distance, entertaining a few fans as he tried not to look Octavio in the face. “C’mon, whats up? Did you listen to anything I just said?”

“No,” Taejoon said, because he didn’t, and tilted his empty bottle up under the pretense of drinking from it some more. “I’m not interested in your games.”

Because he wasn’t. Octavio was a fool, and very low on the list of people that made Taejoon the most paranoid, but he was still _on the list._ He couldn’t let this... _attraction_ take hold of him, no matter how much his cock twitched in interest whenever the other got too close for comfort.

Octavio looked him up and down at these words, unimpressed, before sticking his tongue out and saying, “Whatever. You want me.”

And with that, he pushed away from the bar and left to go annoy someone else, leaving Taejoon behind, red-faced and pressing his lips together.

He wasn’t interested in Octavio’s games, and yet was caught up in one all the same. The game where Octavio leaned against him, voice low in his ear before running off to gun someone down. The game where they ate together, sitting too close, and Octavio suddenly brushed his thumb against the corner of Taejoon’s mouth because there had been food there. The game where Octavio pressed his hips flush against his own before darting away with a laugh, like it had been an accident.

He didn’t know what, exactly, the game they were playing meant. He didn’t know how much of it was a joke and how much of it was real, how much of it was Octavio messing with him and how much of it, if _any_ of it, was Octavio genuinely having interest in him.

What he did know, however, was that it left him frustrated, and when he laid awake at night a very real problem presented itself in the form of his cock hardening at the memory of Octavio’s tongue sticking out over his lower lip, framed perfectly between the snake bite piercings he was fond of. 

All of this led to Taejoon scooping up his bag of toiletries and making his way to the communal bathroom in the dead of the night when mostly everyone else was asleep, fully intent on relieving himself of his frustrations in the shower. If they had been back at the compound he could have simply done it in his room, but on the dropship there was virtually no privacy, and because of it he found himself in the locker room at one in the morning, the fluorescent lights left on from whoever had been inside previously.

Nobody was in here—he had checked up on nearly everyone who used the male locker room before entering. Mirage was asleep on his couch, cuddling a shiny figurine of himself, face coated in a thick layer of what might be whipped cream; Caustic bent low over some new experiment, rumbling quietly to himself in an ominous manner; Octavio a motionless lump on his beanbag, apparently dead asleep; and everyone else either sleeping as well or talking in quiet voices in the kitchen. 

Taejoon silently picked up a small metal trash can and positioned it in front of the locker room door, so if anyone entered (which he highly doubted at one in the morning, but still) the door would knock into the metal and make a loud noise, alerting him of intruders.

He didn’t like getting undressed out in the open, alone or not, so he stepped into a stall and tugged the shower curtain close, before pulling his shirt over his head, folding it up neatly and placing it on the bench just outside of the shower. He undid his belt and the button of his pants, relieving some of the strain on his half-hard cock before shimmying out of them and his underwear. He folded those up neatly too, and set his belt on top of them outside before turning the shower on.

He actually preferred showering this late at night—nobody else used the showers at this hour, which meant that the water pressure and temperature was at its best, and he didn’t feel like rushing to get away from the others. He messed with the knob until it was just a little too hot, and inhaled deeply, stepping back to let the water get his hair and face.

The water was so hot that the stall quickly filled up with steam, and he felt his head clear a little, though there was still a haze weighing down on his shoulders that wouldn’t go away until he took care of the problem between his legs. He debated using lotion to make jerking off easier—deciding that the water wouldn’t help much, he unzipped his bag and pulled out his body lotion. It was one of the few ‘excess’ things he allowed himself, and...he was about to waste some of it because of Octavio Silva. He hated him.

But not enough to stop thinking about him as he stroked his hand lightly over his cock, aching under the hot water, clenching his jaw as he tried not to make any noise lest he be heard. He had set up good enough security, but that one part of him that remained forever paranoid told him to keep his mouth shut. 

Stroking himself to full hardness, he gasped a little before bracing his other hand against the tile wall. He felt overly sensitive for some reason, perhaps as a result of not having done this in weeks. Ideally, he wouldn't be jerking off in the showers, but he was so frustrated that he had needed to let it out _now_ , but it was made difficult—no, _easier_ —by the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about Octavio.

He recalled that time Octavio had pressed up against him, grinning beneath the dim lighting of the club as he tried to sweet-talk Taejoon into buying him drinks. Their hips had been aligned and Taejoon felt, for the first time since joining the Games, _flustered_. It wasn't even the first occasion that someone had flirted with him—hell, not even the first time _Octavio_ had done so—but all the same, it made him feel somewhat disconcerted at the time.

It was so _easy_ to picture Octavio that close to him once again. Long eyelashes and narrow eyes that evinced mischievousness, freckles marking tanned skin and a crooked smile. There was a scar above his upper lip that seemed to disappear when he smiled wide—Taejoon imagined that scar disappearing as Octavio's lips stretched over his cock, taking him down to the base.

_Fuck. Fuck, don't think like that, idiot._

He really had _not_ had sex in a long time, and felt dangerously close to cumming at these thoughts alone. He paused with a low whine rumbling in his chest as hot water continued beating against his skin, red with a combination of heat and the fact that he could not stop thinking about the other no matter how hard he tried.

He attempted to conjure up a different fantasy as he resumed his strokes, imagined fucking a faceless stranger without worry or paranoia, but even _that_ changed, morphed into an image of Octavio above him, panting and groaning and saying—

“Yo.”

_What the fuck._

Taejoon jerked out of his haze, hand twisting over the head of his cock in his surprise and pushing him over the edge. With a short cry he came, curling in on himself a little as he tried to recover, out of breath from holding it in for so long. Caught between alarm and the white-out feeling of release, he half-twisted his body around to see just who had yanked open the shower curtain behind him.

And, because the universe hated him, it was Octavio fucking Silva.

“Damn, it’s like, one A.M.,” Octavio commented, looking at the time on his phone. He was naked save for a towel around his waist, but it wasn’t tied very securely—it dipped severely on one side, giving a tantalizing view of his bare hip, which Taejoon tried not to focus on because he had _just_ came and this was perhaps the most embarrassed he’d ever been in his fucking life.

"What—" Taejoon's voice came out broken and scratchy, and he jerked his head a little, not wanting to meet Octavio's eyes as he tried to discreetly hold his cumstained hand beneath the flow of water, mortified beyond belief. "How did you—"

"I've _been_ in here!" Octavio said, yanking the shower curtain around with one hand. "I was jacking off and then I heard someone come in, so I had to stop and then you started taking a shower at _one in the morning_ and I was going to wait it out so I could fucking finish but then I heard _you_ jacking off. So now, I'm here."

The...the lights, that he had assumed had been left on by whoever had previously been in here...the motionless lump in Octavio's room, far too still to ever be the daredevil before him...

 _Fuck,_ he was an idiot. He wanted to fucking die.

"So, anyway." Octavio crossed his arms over his chest, and the towel around his waist became looser as Taejoon huddled in on himself beneath the pouring water, too humiliated to say anything. "Let's have sex."

Scratch that. _What._

"...Excuse me?" Taejoon asked, voice thankfully much clearer this time. He folded his arms too and turned a little to look at Octavio, not allowing himself to show his discomfort in front of the other, though still feeling incredibly self-conscious of the fact that the man had walked in on the middle of him cumming.

(And cumming at the thought of him, too. This was the worst.)

"Let's cut to the chase already!" Octavio said, and stepped forward into the stall with Taejoon, causing him to instantly shuffle away in alarm, temporarily going blind as the water from the showerhead fell into his eyes. Shaking the water out of his face and hair, he heard Octavio say, " _I'm_ horny, _you're_ horny, and I'm tired of playin' this game, amigo. Let's just do it! We don’t even have to talk to each other after it!”

“What game?” Taejoon asked, feigning ignorance as he felt his face burn, and not just because of the onslaught of water it had just been hit with. This was not happening. It was _not_ , and yet the man standing before him seemed very real, negating all possibility that it might just be yet another one of Taejoon's wet dreams.

“You can’t be this dense. You're a _hacker_ ," Octavio complained, before taking a step backwards, and Taejoon suddenly found it a little easier to breathe, like his head was clearer now. “ _Fine._ Have fun with your hand.”

He watched the other turn his back, and had a split-second argument with himself; one part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and die, wanted to scream at himself for not checking all of the stalls before he started showering, wanted to change his identity once again and run away, because how could he be so _fucking_ stupid?

The other part of him saw his cock hardening a little in interest as he processed Octavio’s words, the clear offer of sex with no strings attatched. Octavio was hot, and he was far too attracted to the man for his own good. Perhaps actually acting on that attraction for once would satiate it...

It really _had_ been too long since he’d last slept with someone if he was standing there and seriously considering the prospect—the idea that the image of Octavio squirming beneath him would no longer be restricted to simple fantasy was what ultimately broke him.

He glanced at Octavio’s back—marked with freckles and two scars between his shoulder blades, white against tan skin, looking years old. Though it was a little hard to tell, there was a tan line where he usually wore his gear, only a tad lighter than the rest of him, and Taejoon longed to see what other little details he could see on his body. Before he even knew it he was saying,

“Alright.”

Octavio paused before turning around so quickly that it startled Taejoon back under the showerhead, not having expected that fast of a reaction. “ _Fuck yeah_ —you wanna do it in here or do you wanna do it someplace else? Like my room? Ooh, risky.”

“In here,” Taejoon said in a measured voice, trying not to snap at the other for instantly suggesting that they have sex around the other Legends. It seemed that taking risks followed Octavio wherever he went, even when it came to stuff like this. “And in the stall, so no one sees us.”

Octavio made an exaggerated facial expression then, and Taejoon was prepared to argue with him, but surprisingly, the other man conceded. “Alright, whatever you say.”

And he probably wouldn’t have been able to argue anyway, because Octavio dropped the towel then, stepping into the stall with Taejoon and yanking the shower curtain shut. His mouth turned dry, taking in the man before him—abs and muscled thighs on display, shameless and fully aware of just how much he drove Taejoon up the wall. He wanted to put his hands on his waist just to feel him beneath his grip, an assurance that it was real, but forced himself to glance away instead.

“You should see your face,” the other teased, but his voice had dropped an octave, and it was going straight down south for Taejoon. Octavio approached him and in response he took a cautious step backwards—this continued until his back was right up against the cool tile wall, just a little bit wet from the steam of the shower. “I like it when you get embarrassed like this. It's different from that cool _'I don't care'_ stuff."

“So you do all of that on purpose?” Taejoon found it within himself to ask past the dryness in his throat, _‘that’_ referring to all those times Octavio had pressed up on him, skin against skin and proving himself to be a distraction, and an incredibly hot one at that.

“Duh,” Octavio said, and Taejoon felt the other’s hands gripping the back of his thighs. With a hefty grunt, Taejoon’s feet were suddenly off the ground and he slid a little against the tile wall as his legs were lifted, now eye-level with Octavio, who laughed at him. “That’s better. You’re too damn tall.”

“I’m not,” Taejoon said back weakly, still surprised from the sudden movement, and Octavio laughed again before kissing him. It wasn’t a nice kiss by any means; too much teeth, too much biting and bruising and roughing, but it was...nice. He'd imagined the way Octavio would kiss before, and had pictured it a lot more wet (shower notwithstanding), but that might have been due to personal preference. This was just fine—great, even.

His cock was now standing between their stomachs as Taejoon tried to match Octavio’s frenetic kissing, but soon gave up, instead placing one hand on the other’s jaw to hold him still so he could insert his tongue into his mouth. Octavio allowed it, moaning in response as Taejoon kissed him back, gripping the back of his head with his other hand and tugging at the hair there to try and elicit more noises out of Octavio, but he was met with a sudden gnash of teeth. It hurt, but felt good all the same.

He then lowered his hand onto Octavio’s shoulder to help find himself a sense of balance, but the skin there was wet and slick with the water from the shower still running behind him. The water was no longer skin-boiling hot, but still plenty warm enough for it to not be uncomfortable when his feet were caught beneath the spray from the way Octavio was holding his legs up.

Giving up on keeping his hand on Octavio’s shoulder because of how slick it was, he instead moved his hand down to his cock and gave it a few strokes as they continued kissing, sloppy and aggressive. It was now Octavio's turn to stick his tongue into Taejoon's mouth, which was pretty hot, and it felt good, but he hadn’t agreed to this so they could just kiss—he had expected Octavio to jump right into the whole _sex_ part of the ordeal, but he would apparently need to take that initiative himself.

Pressing his leg down, Octavio got the message and released his grip on Taejoon’s thighs, allowing him to stand up straight and pop his back. Octavio took a step back under the spray of water, running his fingers through his now-wet hair. Taejoon was momentarily speechless, watching the way water droplets ran down the other's sun-kissed skin, particularly over his abdomen and chest. His top surgery scars seemed darker under the water, and Taejoon wanted to touch them out of curiosity to see if the skin there was raised or not.

Octavio suddenly met his eyes, arching an eyebrow and causing Taejoon to look forcibly away as he tried to articulate how he wanted to ask his next question.

“How do you want to do this?” He finally managed, fingers tapping against his thigh almost nervously as he listened for anyone who might enter the locker room, though he knew that the trash can he had set in front of the door would be more than loud enough.

“I dunno. Just fuck me against the wall, I guess,” Octavio said carelessly, before suggesting: “Unless you don’t mind laying on the floor and having me ride you.”

Yeah, that was _not_ going to happen. The floors were cleaned regularly, so they probably weren’t too disgusting, but Taejoon cringed at the thought of laying on top of the wet tile. To give himself time to think he stepped forward to put his head under the running water, getting his hair wet so he could more easily smooth it back with his hand, not wanting it to get in his face.

“I’ll just.” He hated saying this sort of stuff in English—he liked talking in Korean more because there was a better chance that they wouldn’t understand him, the vulgarity of his words. “Fuck you like this.”

“Nice.”

Taejoon turned away to dig through his toiletry bag, but Octavio said, “Hey, I fingered myself already. I don’t need anything.”

“Maybe that’s enough for you,” Taejoon said without looking back at him as he uncapped the bottle he'd been looking for. “But I prefer to have something, at least.”

More of his lotion wasted. He’d find a way to make the other pay for it, even if he _did_ technically say he didn’t need any. Once he felt that he’d done a sufficient enough job, he turned to face Octavio, who was staring up at the ceiling boredly, like waiting for even thirty seconds was too insufferable for him. His vacant expression was enough to make Taejoon feel annoyed, and without much warning he grabbed the other behind his thighs and lifted him into the air, pressing the other’s back against the tile and taking delight in the surprised squawk he let out.

“You’re too short,” Taejoon said as he lined his cock up with the other's entrance, his heart making itself a known presence in his chest, beating rapidly. A haze was settling on him once again, the reality of _I’m about to fuck Octavio Silva_ finally kicking in and clouding his mind, as if the steam from the shower was filling his head too.

“Am not,” Octavio said back, and set his hands on Taejoon’s shoulders, watching him push his cock inside of him inch by inch. It was taking all he had in him to keep from burying himself to the hilt inside of the other in one go, exercising restraint while Octavio watched, unimpressed. “You’re too fucking slow.”

“I’m not the one who wasted five minutes kissing,” Taejoon murmured, but was starting to lose his control just a little. He gave a few shallow thrusts to start off with, trying to find a good balance between moving his hips and holding Octavio, and let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

 _Fuck._ He felt good— _this_ felt good, having his cock inside the other, watching the way the muscles in his abdomen tensed a little due to the position they were in and from having Taejoon inside of him. It was better than he had ever imagined it, and unfortunately he had thought about it a _lot._ He gave another thrust of his hips as hard as he could, just to really _feel_ the other's heat around him, and was met with a sharp gasp that encouraged him to keep moving.

He managed to find a steady pace to fuck into Octavio without losing his grip, the feeling of water running down his back adding to the overall pleasurable sensation. The slide wasn't too difficult—Octavio was very wet, and Taejoon found it easier to keep his rhythm because of it. Grunting a little, he tried to keep one part of him focused and alert, on the lookout for anyone who might enter the locker room for whatever reason at two in the goddamn morning, but it was hard to think about anything other than the fact that Octavio was so _fucking_ tight around him despite the prep he'd supposedly done.

He watched the other, who had closed his eyes, looking for any sort of reaction beyond a neutral expression, but aside from the gasp earlier, he didn't seem to be affected at all. Taejoon half-wanted to reach between them and tug at Octavio's clit to at least get another little noise out of him, watch him come undone, but didn't want to risk unbalancing them to do it.

“Fuck,” Octavio suddenly cursed, letting his head fall back and exposing his throat, and he clenched around Taejoon, causing him to groan. “Could you go a _little_ faster?”

“You’re being difficult,” Taejoon said through clenched teeth, trying not to let his voice crack because he was already very close to cumming—Octavio's pussy was so fucking _wet,_ and again, so fucking tight, and he just felt too hot all over. He slowed his thrusts so that he wouldn’t get teased for not being able to last long—he normally could, but it had been a while, so he was sensitive, especially after having come already before this.

“I said faster, not slower,” Octavio said, and started moving his hips along with Taejoon’s, trying to force him into a faster pace, but only succeeded in making Taejoon groan again, slowing down even more.

“Stop it,” he said, a coil tightening in his stomach as the sensations of the other fucking himself onto his cock and warm water running down his back assaulted him. "I’m going to fucking cum if you do that, I’m trying to _last._ ”

“I don’t care,” Octavio said, still rocking his hips as best as he could in his current position. “You can just do it again."

“You overestimate me.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck his vision was starting to black out at the edges and the other man showed no sign of stopping, nails digging into Taejoon’s shoulders as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the empty locker room. With a cry Taejoon came for the second time that night, embarrassment mingling with the blissful feeling of releasing inside of the other. Cumming so early somehow felt worse than when Octavio had walked in on him earlier.

Octavio fucked him through it, not caring that he was overstimulated, metal legs digging into Taejoon’s skin as he scratched his nails down his back, grunting with the effort of doing most of the work himself. Taejoon let out yet another embarrassing groan, cock sensitive and still being clenched down on by the other man.

" _Octavio,_ " he hissed through his teeth, overwhelmed and head feeling fuzzy through it all.

“Ugh—just lay down,” Octavio suddenly said, and pushed Taejoon away, to his surprise. He dropped the other, but Octavio landed just fine—unlike Taejoon, who stumbled because his legs felt weak.

He watched Octavio spread his own legs a little to stick his fingers inside of himself and look at the mess Taejoon had made inside of him, fingers coming out coated in cum, which only served to further Taejoon's humiliation at being unable to last longer—but his face heated up for a different reason as he watched his cum pulse out of Octavio slowly, thick and clinging to his thighs.

“Nice," the man said in a satisfied sort of voice at the sight. "Alright, I’m going to ride you this time. We’re not done yet.”

Taejoon didn’t have it in him to argue, still panting as he sat down on the floor beneath the shower. His skin felt sensitive and it would take him a few minutes to recover, but not too long—watching Octavio begin to jerk himself off as he leaned against the wall was pretty hot, especially with the fact that his cum was still leaking out of him. When he realized that fact he jerked his head away, not wanting to be caught staring at the mess before him.

"Dude," he heard Octavio laugh, but that laugh mingled with something breathier and higher, a noise Taejoon hadn't been able to get out of him himself. "I don't mind you watchin' me. I'm used to having fans."

Scoffing at the wording, Taejoon turned to look back at the other slowly, fighting the flush threatening to overtake his already burning skin when Octavio gasped and let his head hit the tile wall behind him, legs spread as he jerked himself off, a mixture of Taejoon's cum and his own wetness staining his thighs.

"Don't just sit there," Octavio gasped again, eyes narrowed at Taejoon. "Tell me—fuck, I dunno, tell me what you want to do to me."

And here Taejoon balked. It wasn't that he was inexperienced—he was just a very awkward person, and the thought of saying _any_ of the things he'd thought about doing to Octavio out loud _to his face_ was a mortifying idea. He admittedly had plenty of those thoughts to dish out, but couldn't imagine saying a single one of them out loud.

That didn't seem to be a problem for Octavio, though.

"Fine, I'll go first." The other man was unrelenting in the circling and tugging of his clit, even as he said breathlessly, "I want to fuck you, I have a fucking—strap and I want to pin your stupid nerd ass to the ground and fuck you 'til you drop the act. I've thought about it so much, I just want to hear you cry."

Taejoon was half-hard now, aided by the thought of Octavio bending him over a table and fucking him with a silicone cock until he was little more than a mewling mess. He hadn't bottomed in quite a long time, so the idea was incredibly appealing to him—enough for him to wrap his hand around the sensitive head of his own cock, trying to get himself back to full hardness as Octavio's voice guided him through his fantasies.

"'nd I want to suck you off," Octavio admitted through a whine, showing no signs of stopping what he was doing. "In the Ring, I wanna do it when we're on a team together and we're about to get caught but you're fucking my face in one of the vaults and we're about to fucking _die_ —"

This seemed to push him over the edge, and Octavio cried out, coming into his hand with a rather dramatic full-body jerk. That sound alone left Taejoon fully hard now, but very sensitive. The water wasn't helping matters, but he refused to turn it off just in case anyone walked in so it would drown out the sound of the two of them together.

Octavio wasn’t out of commission for too long—it took him about twenty seconds to recover, running water over his hand to wash away the sticky mess while Taejoon watched, unsure on how things were going to proceed. Was Octavio planning to ride him? If so, he had no idea how long he was going to last, because he had already come twice in a short period of time, and Octavio would be setting the pace this time, not just hijacking it like before.

A hand was placed on his chest and pushed him down so that he was laying flat on his back, and he did nothing to stop it. He half considered asking Octavio to slow down this time, but the words died in his throat before they could even form. The other man wouldn’t slow down for anything, and frankly, didn’t seem to care if Taejoon came early—he was more focused on if he could come back from it or not.

“C’mon, don’t be shy,” Octavio said, and the way they were positioned in the stall left them both mostly dry save for Taejoon’s legs, which should feel cold, but he felt hot from this whole ordeal and didn’t mind it much. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

He couldn’t say anything even if he wanted to—just watched Octavio position Taejoon’s cock before sinking down on it without much further ado, seating himself on his lap with a minute shudder that Taejoon felt too, and mirrored beneath him.

He was given no time to breathe—Octavio instantly set a relentless pace, and his hands flew up to grip the other’s waist, trying to feel like he had _some_ sense of control over the situation, but could tell that it was quickly dwindling.

“Tell me,” Octavio repeated, voice low once again, and Taejoon took a deep breath, trying to keep himself fucking sane. He was already getting lost in the sensation of Octavio clenching around his cock, the heat overwhelming him along with his own sensitivity, and when he opened his mouth all that came out was a moan.

Octavio was leaning against Taejoon's chest, scratching his nails into the flesh there, red marks distinct on his skin because of the hot water. Taejoon moved his hands from his waist to his hips, giving a few weak thrusts upwards of his own into Octavio's wet heat, but it was hard to match pace with the man on top of him, and with a cry he finally broke and said,

“Eat you out, fuck, I want to cum in you and then eat you out, and I want to make you cum too because you’re irritating and I want you to stop _fucking_ talking.”

Octavio hummed above him, smirking in that insufferable manner of his—he knew he was being difficult, knew he was driving Taejoon over the edge, and didn’t care. Just kept riding him, abs tensing as he ground down on Taejoon's cock.

“I already came in you and it was so hot, fuck, you looked so good,” he panted, because he’d always found cumming in other people arousing, enough to motivate him into pursuing multiple rounds of sex, but he’d never admitted to it before. It just felt too vulgar to say out loud—felt vulgar enough thinking to himself that the way his cum leaked down Octavio’s thigh was the hottest shit he’d ever seen, and it felt ten times worse admitting it out loud. “And I’m gonna fucking cum again, _fuck,_ Octavio.”

"Don't know what you just said," Octavio teased above him, and with a half-hearted curse he realized he'd said all of that in Korean. "But it sounded pretty intense, amigo."

The next thing he knew, Octavio was gripping his jaw in one hand and kissing him as roughly as he had earlier, still unrelenting in his movements. Taejoon moaned into the kiss, hips bucking up involuntarily, which made Octavio kiss him even harder, biting on his lower lip so roughly that it felt white-hot. It almost didn't feel real, this whole situation—fucking Octavio in the showers, having the other on top of him and riding his cock, his own cum staining his thighs. It was like one of Taejoon's dreams copy-and-pasted into real life, and he wondered in his haze if this was anything that Octavio had dreamt of, too.

Feeling pushed past his limits, Taejoon came for the third time that night, a few tears running down his face from oversensitivity and gripping Octavio’s hips so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he left bruises. He then allowed himself to go boneless, taking in deep breaths to clear his head while watching Octavio continue to fuck himself on his cock. Octavio was still riding him untiringly, gasping a little, making expressions that Taejoon hadn’t been able to draw out himself because he simply couldn’t match the momentum that the other wanted.

The wet sound of skin slapping skin filled Taejoon’s head as the heavy haze from earlier was filtered out and replaced with a light buzzing feeling, almost like he had been drinking. He was still sensitive, and beginning to soften, but that didn’t stop Octavio, who rode him throughout his orgasm, showing no signs of st—

The metal _CLANK_ of the trash can being hit and sent across the locker room brought the both of them out of their reverie—the ensuing cursing and complaining was what made Taejoon spring into action. There was about a foot-tall gap between the bottom of the shower curtain and the tile floor, and he did not fancy the thought of someone glancing over and catching sight of his cock stuffed inside the other.

“Por _que_ —” Octavio hissed as Taejoon shoved him off of him, but he slapped a hand to the other’s mouth, and with strength that should’ve been impossible due to just having come _three_ fucking times, lifted Octavio up single-handedly so the person wouldn't catch sight of two pairs of feet in this stall. His knees felt weak and he hadn't quite recovered yet, but he would take mild discomfort over someone finding out he'd just laid on the floor and allowed Octavio Silva to ride him until he cried.

The other man squirmed in his arms, muffled complaints in Spanish barely heard over the hand Taejoon was clamping over his mouth as he listened for the person who had just entered the locker room, heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“Who the hell’s taking a shower so late?” A familiar voice asked, sounding groggy, and Taejoon wanted to fucking scream. _Mirage._ Literally the last person on Earth he wanted to find Taejoon fucking Octavio in a shower stall. “Hey, who’s in there?”

Octavio had thankfully gone still, but was shooting Taejoon a disdainful look over his shoulder. Taejoon took a deep breath, making sure his voice would come out steady, before snapping out,

“Quiet. You’re being too loud.”

“Oh—Crypto?” Mirage sounded bewildered, and he heard the other’s footsteps walk past, causing his heart rate to skyrocket. “Sorry, man. I think Octane put whipped cream all over my face, so I need to shower or else my beard’s going to look awful tomorrow.”

“I don’t care why you’re here,” Taejoon said, and when he heard the sound of another shower curtain being yanked open and close, slowly lowered Octavio so he could put his metal feet down on the tile. “Just get it over with already.”

“Jeez, you don’t have to be like that,” Mirage grumbled, but he heard the shower start, and gave a sigh of relief. “Wh—it’s ice fucking cold! Jesus, how long have you been in here?”

“The temperature is broken,” Taejoon lied, face flushing as he waited for Mirage to call him out on it, but thankfully he didn't.

Octavio suddenly sagged against him, as if tired, and Taejoon became hyper-aware of the fact that the hand that wasn’t keeping the other silent was between his thighs, which were trembling with the need for release.

_Should he..._

On the one hand, Mirage was two stalls down.

On the other, he wanted to make Octavio cum, because the other had made him cum three times and he had yet to return the favor.

His heart was still beating furiously in his chest as he moved his hand to circle a finger around Octavio’s hole, sticky and warm from Taejoon’s cum, and he felt yet another spike of arousal when the man in his arms responded by sagging even more. Octavio pried Taejoon’s fingers off of his lips and managed to whisper-shout _‘get me off, asshole’_ before Taejoon had silenced him once again.

“Did you say something?” Mirage asked loudly, and Taejoon wanted to swear at him.

“Leave me alone,” he hissed, and Mirage went quiet after that, though occasionally humming a show tune to himself. Taejoon pressed his front close to Octavio’s back in a half-embrace as he massaged his fingers over the other’s cunt, sticky with a mixture of both Taejoon’s cum and his own slick. He could feel him trembling in his arms, becoming more pronounced whenever Taejoon rubbed circles over his folds, which were soaking wet and coated his fingers messily.

What he had thought earlier about Octavio wanting to take risks even in situations like these proved true; the other man reached behind him, grabbing at Taejoon's cock and trying to guide it toward his entrance, but he snapped his hips away, pressing down on his clit in response and earning a full-body shudder.

Pressing his lips to the back of Octavio’s neck in warning, Taejoon slid his fingers down to curl inside of the other, using two to fuck in and out of him while the heel of his palm ground against Octavio’s clit, and he was rewarded with a muffled whine that he felt more than heard. He wrapped his other arm around his waist, pulling him so close that Octavio's back was near-perfectly aligned with his front, ass brushing against his cock and making him bite back a low groan.

He then hooked his chin over Octavio’s shoulder to better see his fingers sliding in and out of him, yet another wave of arousal hitting him at the sight of his cum slowly pulsing out of the man in his arms. He had meant it earlier—he found it hottest to look at someone after he came just to admire how much he had filled them up, and despite his withdrawn demeanor earlier, the same held true even now for Octavio.

He wondered if Octavio liked being cummed in, if he viewed it as an inconvenience or if he enjoyed the feeling of being full. The way the other had stuck his fingers inside of himself earlier to admire the mess Taejoon had made pointed to the latter, and Taejoon thought to himself distantly that they'd have to do this again to test the limit of how much he could cum in Octavio's pussy before growing tired.

 _Oh my god you sound so fucking horny,_ he yelled at himself, and Octavio certainly wasn't helping when he moaned beneath him. He paused then, before deciding that fucking him on his fingers was too loud and the wet noises could be heard by Mirage. He curled his fingers instead, and instantly Octavio bent even further, body jerking—and Taejoon knew he had hit the jackpot, had finally made the other man start to come undone. He continued curling his fingers and pressing against that one spot inside of him that was making Octavio see stars, and was rewarded with more whines and moans that were becoming more audible by the minute no matter how hard he flattened his palm against Octavio’s mouth.

He didn’t want to lose pace with Octavio, had the other coming apart at his fingertips, but also didn’t want to risk Mirage overhearing them in the stall together. Who knew what kind of rumors he would spread, how annoying he would be about it, but at the same time the way Octavio was squirming beneath him as his palm rubbed against his clit was making him dizzy with arousal. His cock was too spent to achieve much more than semi-hardness, but he lightly rutted himself against Octavio anyway, smearing precum against the back of his thighs and ass.

He tried his best to keep his breathing under control and from getting too heavy, but it got harder when the other man started rocking down on his fingers in a frenzy to get off. Taejoon bit down lightly on his shoulder in warning, but that only made Octavio shudder beneath him, breath hot against the palm of his hand.

Taejoon heard the sudden change in the way the water was hitting the tile—Mirage was rinsing his hair now, and would be done at any moment. He would then be free to release Octavio from his hold and fuck him with his fingers until he was crying out his name. The fake one, anyway. Maybe he would even entertain his earlier words, and eat him out while the other sank against the wall, knees weak and begging for him to—

“Alright,” Mirage sighed, and Taejoon realized too late he would have to lift up Octavio again to prevent his metal feet from getting seen—but Mirage walked right past without saying anything, and he let out a silent sigh of relief. “See you in the Ring tomorrow, kid. Don’t oversleep!”

"Shut up," Taejoon said, proud that his voice remained consistently steady and snappy even while Octavio was on the verge of cumming into his hand.

He waited for the other to leave—heard him mumble something about pajama bottoms before eventually slamming the door shut behind him, and as soon as he did, Taejoon released Octavio from his hold, the other man nearly falling over from being curled up in on himself.

“H-hey,” Octavio breathed out, stuttering, and that shake in his voice was enough to make Taejoon feel satisfied with himself, because he had flipped Octavio's smug and bored attitude around, face flushed red and voice higher pitched. “Enough playing around, come _on_ —”

“Back to the wall,” Taejoon ordered, getting down on his knees, and Octavio listened without asking questions, legs spread and already rubbing furiously at his clit, but Taejoon grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away, instead focusing on angling his head as best he could in their current position. 

He used two fingers to spread Octavio, running his tongue experimentally over his folds and entrance before receiving a gasp in response. He could feel the other’s thighs trembling next to his head, which encouraged him to stick his tongue shallowly inside of him—he couldn’t do much more at this angle, but with the way Octavio was gripping his hair, he didn’t _need_ to do much more.

He was saying a lot of things in Spanish as Taejoon ate him out, the salty taste of his own cum just a little unpleasant, but outweighed by the fact that Octavio was shaking above him, speaking rapidly and breathlessly. He traveled his tongue up to the man’s trembling clit, curling his fingers inside of him in the same way that had made him cry out earlier. 

"Ah—" He was successful in this endeavor, making eye contact with Octavio while he ate his pussy out messily, lips slick and thighs coated wetly. Octavio's face was red, forehead wet with either sweat or the fine mist being sprayed by the shower, and his teeth were bared, as if trying his best to not weep—but Taejoon _wanted_ him to, driving his fingers deeper into the other, and as harshly as he could.

The result was Octavio's thighs trembling somehow even harder on either side of his face, hips gyrating slowly while the man himself panted above him, so quick and sharp that he sounded breathless. Feeling satisfied at the other's reaction, Taejoon then kissed at his swollen clit sloppily before taking it into his mouth, swirling his tongue and earning yet another cry from Octavio that echoed around in the empty locker room.

He continued kissing and swirling his tongue, tightening his hand over Octavio's hip to leave behind even more bruises. The man above him started rocking his hips more harshly, panting, one hand raised to his mouth as if trying to stifle his breath while Taejoon lapped at him. He soon slid his fingers out of Octavio to instead get a steady hold on his thighs, eyes relaxing shut as he did his best to make him unravel with his tongue.

" _Fuck_!" 

Octavio's hips suddenly bucked forward, and Taejoon moved the hand on his hip to grip at the other's ass, kneading the flesh there. Octavio fucked down on his face, fisting at Taejoon's hair while he panted above him, starting to sound desperate. He had stopped trying to stifle his noises now, panting freely, voice lilting into something straight out of Taejoon's fantasies but somehow _better._

He was _so_ fucking wet, Taejoon's chin soaked in his mess while he listened to the increasingly higher-pitched _'ah ah ah'_ s streaming out of Octavio's mouth. He moved his tongue again, pressing it flat over his cunt before taking his clit between his lips again, and Octavio whined so loudly because of it that his half-hard cock twitched with interest between his legs. He squeezed the other's ass, earning a groan and yet another sharp buck of his hips, fucking into Taejoon's mouth desperately.

With a sudden shout that surely woke up half the dropship, Octavio came, hips stuttering to a stop as he panted above him, face scrunched up and mouth dropped open in an _O._ Taejoon waited patiently for him to calm down before tugging himself out of the other’s grip, sitting back on his haunches and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, though there was still plenty of a mess left behind. He watched Octavio slide slowly down against the wall, as if his metal knees could no longer support his weight. He sat on the tile floor across from him, eyes a little glazed over and looking tired, which was odd for him, of all people, to show fatigue.

“Wow,” Octavio said, sounding fucked-out, before reaching a hand up and rubbing at his eyes. “Did you get a fucking confidence boost at the end there or something? We’ve got to do that again. And again. Maybe again?”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Taejoon said, looking down at his softening cock and the mess on his own thighs. The woozy high of it all was starting to sink to its stifling low. “Let’s clean up, first.”

The water really was ice-cold by now, but he almost didn’t feel it as he washed up, Octavio beside him lethargically and half-heartedly washing the cum off of his thighs and pressing his fingers inside of himself to get the sticky mess out. Taejoon washed his face thoroughly, though it somehow still felt... _messy_ even after the fact. He didn't entirely mind, though. It was just a bitch on the metal plating of his jaw.

“I’m gonna pee,” Octavio announced suddenly, alarming Taejoon as he finished rinsing the suds out of his hair.

“Not on me," he yelped, and scrambled to get out of the shower, Octavio’s cackle following him as he toweled off out in the open. He normally preferred drying and getting dressed in one of the stalls, but he was too tired to fuss over it right now. He just wanted to go to sleep. 

Pulling on a loose t-shirt and his sweatpants, he watched Octavio pat himself dry before wiggling into a pair of boxers—presumably the boxers he had been wearing previously.

"You're gross," Taejoon told him.

"You _just_ had sex with me, you don't get to say I'm gross," Octavio said back. He guessed that was true.

Taejoon dried his hair some more, just to give himself something to do while Octavio hummed next to him, having detached his legs and cleaning the plug that helped align them. He didn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. Octavio had said they didn’t need to talk after it, but that felt...off. He’d had one-night stands before, but those were under the promise that he’d never have to see those people ever again. Octavio wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon—how was he supposed to deal with that?

“Y’know, I meant what I said about having a strap, earlier,” Octavio said conversationally, and Taejoon picked up on a hint of _something_ beneath his voice. Trepidation, maybe. “If you wanted, we could meet another time and just..?”

“Octavio” Taejoon said, garnering his attention, before saying, “We don’t have to just do...sex stuff.”

Octavio glanced at him, unnervingly quiet as he put his legs back on. Taejoon flushed under his gaze, knowing he had just said something incredibly fucking stupid, but Octavio smiled and said, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Not necessarily,” Taejoon said, but quickly added when Octavio’s smile dropped: “But if you wanted it to be—”

“I do,” he responded.

“Then we could go on a date. At least once.” God this was a bad idea. A horrible idea. He was supposed to be undercover. He was supposed to be _discreet,_ not fucking Octavio Silva in the dropship locker room and then taking him out on a date. That was the opposite of discreet. That was...

A good cover, maybe.

He liked Octavio well enough. Thought he was attractive, and wasn’t too bad underneath the whole rowdy and impatient exterior. He could use dating Octavio as a cover in case the Syndicate got suspicious of him—would someone undercover seek out a relationship with a fellow competitor? Unlikely. It would also help give him an alibi...

The two of them headed out the locker room together, only to run right into Mirage.

“I knew it!” He declared, sounding shrill, and Taejoon glanced at Octavio, who had started laughing. “I thought I heard s-someone else in there—what were you two even-”

“It doesn’t concern you, so don’t ask any questions,” Taejoon replied shortly, pushing past him and trying to hide the fact that his face was turning an unflattering shade of pink. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—_

“Oh my god,” Mirage said, as if coming to a realization. “Were you two _boning?_ ”

Octavio’s shriek of laughter that followed woke up Bangalore, who threatened all three of them with running forty laps if they didn’t get back to bed right the fuck now. Mirage shot him a look as he headed back to his living area, mouthing something along the lines of _‘you two are gross’,_ and Taejoon pointedly looked away, having the feeling that after today, the red in his cheeks was going to be permanent. Mila always used to tease him for blushing easily, and he'd thought he'd grown out of it. Evidently not.

He and Octavio’s rooms were right next to each other, and he watched Octavio climb into his beanbag, grabbing for his phone and showing no intentions of going to sleep.

“Don’t tell anyone just yet,” Taejoon warned him, seeing that the other was already typing out a message on social media bragging that he had ‘a hot-ass date with long-ass legs’.

“But that’s so boring,” he complained.

“Octavio.”

“Ugh, fine.” He deleted the message, before looking up at Taejoon, eyebrows furrowed. “Anyways, what’s your real name? I can’t just call you Crypto when we fuck. You know how unsexy that name is?”

“Keep your voice down,” Taejoon hissed, because god forbid anyone else hear their conversation.

“Not ‘til you tell me what your name is.”

Taejoon sighed, running a hand through his hair, before sitting down on the cot that acted as his bed, wondering if he should tell the other his fake name or not. He’d made up an alias for a reason, but hardly ever used it. It just felt so weird to be called by that name, but he could tell Octavio wouldn’t leave the matter alone until he was satisfied. So he said,

“You can call me Hyeon. For now.”

“Hyeon,” Octavio repeated, before grinning, mischievous. “Now I know what name to say when I fuck y-”

“Good night,” Taejoon said loudly, and turned his lamp off so the other wouldn’t see his face turning red for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

**Author's Note:**

> pls dont be afraid to write a review because i am not confident in writing nsfw at ALL i feel like [sadly honks my clown nose]


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